This goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! In form and moving how express and admirable! In action how like an angel! In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2507 | 2020-05-08 08:41:14 | 79.42 | 95% |
| 1831 | 2020-04-28 07:30:15 | 86.34 | 97% |